So very random

Exams have been over for 24 hours, and I’m bored out of my mind. I’m glad they’re over, don’t get me wrong. But damn. How do housewives do it? Well, then again, I bet housewives don’t vegetate on the couch watching Scrubs distractedly because they are feeling guilty about vegetating on the couch.
I decided not to be a total loser, and I decided I wanted to make something to eat. And then I discovered that I REALLY have to learn how to cook. I’m going to be the worst girlfriend ever when Geoff moves in- I can’t cook worth a damn. See, I decided that I was in the mood for beef, so I defrosted these beef stir-fry strips that I bought about two months ago. But I got sick of waiting for them to defrost, so I tossed them in the sink full of hot water. I then came back to a pinkish looking sink and waterlogged beef about 20 mins later. I figured that it would burn off when I cooked it. (I’m still waiting for the e.coli to set in. So far, so good.) Anyway, I cut up a whole whack of veggies, and did the whole stir-fry thing, complete with rice. I also burned my arm, wrist, breast (I leaned over the skillet to check on the rice in a tank top. Rookie mistake.) and somehow managed to melt this plastic mushroom-scrubber thingie I have. Well, had. Anyway, it was pretty tasty. Not tasty like I would ever make it for company or serve it to a living soul, but it involved more then heating up a pot of boiling water, so I’m proud…in a “retarded monkey managed to cook something” sort of way.
But hot damn, can I clean. I’m something of a clean freak, which I never saw coming, and my mother still disbelieves. But I’m constantly tidying, doing the dishes, scrubbing the floors, dusting, cleaning the bathroom, and vacuuming at least once a week. Jordan and I are supposed to share the cleaning duties, but he never does his. And it makes me really sad when he doesn’t do it, because I feel like he’s disrespecting me, and I try really hard to maintain the peace and be a good roomie. This hasn’t changed in the entire time we’ve been living together, and I guess he either doesn’t notice or care that it makes me feel like shit. But a month ago he promised to clean the floors, and he never did it.
However, to his credit, he does take out the trash…sometimes without ever being asked. And he puts up with most of my stupid rules, like no loud music and not putting certain dishes in the dishwasher. And we get along really well, which makes it all worthwhile. Plus, he puts up with my bullshit, and once when I was doing laundry and dishes at the same time, a pair of my freshly laundered panties somehow wound up in a bowl in the cupboard. He discovered this while I was having a faux birthday party for Christine, and he just laughed at me. He didn’t make a scene, which I appreciated. And whenever I’m having a stupid girly crisis, he sighs and tells me that I’m crazy, but he still listens and gives advice. And lets not forget that he’s cool with Geoff being over here all the time, which is really important. It would be a lot worse if the three of us couldn’t hang out.

Cheers!
K

Quote du Jour
“What we need is an ashing trough on the outside of the deck…”
-Geoff

Why do they godda be like that?

I’m in that half-awake, half-asleep mode before the coffee has hit the bloodstream and the dreams have faded entirely. Geoff laughed at me this morning before he left for work, because I was grouchy when he tried to rouse me (as I had made him promise to try and do so I can get a head start on cramming today). I have a final tomorrow that I’m wholly unprepared for. It’s C Lit 440, and it’s all advanced lit theory in relation to popular culture. Damn you, Lacan! I thought I was through with you and your mirror phase!
Lit theory is pervading every pore of my life. Last night, Geoff and I were cuddled up in bed, and I started talking about the Freudian differences between men and women, and we wound up talking about infantile breastfeeding, and the long term sociological ramifications. Talk about a mood killer! What was I thinking? I even knew that it was a bad idea as I brought it up, but I objectively identified the wrong thing to say, and said it anyway. I guess Geoff is rubbing off on me. The funny thing is, Geoff didn’t even hesitate to get into the conversation. There isn’t really a lot of topics that we shy away from. (*WARNING: ABOUT TO GET REALLY DISGUSTING*) Including Tom Cruise eating Katie Holmes’s placenta after she gave birth to his child. I don’t often talk about celebrity dirt on this blog, but this couple continues to just blow my mind. I always saw K Homes as a sweet young chick that was on a teeny-bopper show. What is she doing with this placenta-eating, Scientology-practicing, couch-abusing freak of nature?? And why does she always look like a mother possum when she’s in public with him? You don’t have to cling, honey. He’s not exactly the catch he was in the 1980’s. You know, before he went public with his abundance of crazy. Tome Cruise makes me shutter.
Moving right along. I had an altercation with a woman in the Sherwood Park Mall parking lot yesterday. On the way to the mall, on WYE ROAD, This nutso woman just about steered her big-assed Land Rover into my itty bitty Escort because she was too retarded to check her mirrors AND shoulder before she lane changed. I lightly tapped on my horn-an unusual Keltie move in traffic. I think I’ve used my horn three times in my entire life, because I think its rude to lean on it and curse at other drivers. Anyway, it was this “yo lady, I’m right here, don’t hit me” beep. She swerved out of my lane, pulled up beside me, and started screaming and flipping me off!!! I smirked at her, and proceeded to turn up my music and ignore her. She started to tailgate me, and I made this choice: “I’m a student driving a ’96 Escort, and you are a rich Sherwood Park whore driving a 2006 land yacht. I’m in a wicked enough mood to get rear-ended and make you pay.” I tapped on my breaks, and sure enough, she damn near hit me (witnesses galore. People are now looking over at this psycho lady, who is STILL screaming inside her car and flipping me off). Anywhoo, she took off down the road doing at LEAST 80 in a 60 zone, because I was doing exactly 60 and she shot past me. Get this: her 12 year-old daughter flipped me off, too. Lovely.
I watched her get trapped behind two slower cars, and then run through a yellow light as it turned red. Like, it turned red as soon as the nose of her car hit the intersection. Anyway, I don’t understand the psychics of it, but I guess she was headed towards the mall. I got there as she and her kid were walking towards the door. We saw each other at the same time, and she came up to me just screaming her head off about what a “fucking cunt driver” I am, and how I deserved to be shot for cutting her off. Excuse me? I was in the same lane the whole time. Anyway, I knew it would piss her off if I played it cool, so I leaned against the door of my car and sipped my coffee, watching her like she was a mildly interesting television program. I let her tucker herself out before I said very quietly and very evenly, “ You sped. You ran a light. You tailgated me, and you encouraged your young daughter to flip me off. You are a worse mother then you are a driver, and that’s saying a lot.” I then waltzed past her, and into the mall ignoring the awful things she was screaming after me. All I wanted to do was start swearing, maybe deck her and her bitchy daughter for good measure. I was shaking when I got to work, and I have come to a single conclusion: I fucking hate Sherwood Park.
Okay kids. I’ve gone through a cup of coffee, and its time to study. A martini night is in order as soon as exams are done. Who’s with me?

Cheers!

K

Quote du jour
“Be gentle with me, Sam!” (Chelsey and I talking about the homosexual overtones in Lord of the Rings)

C’mon!

Well folks, if you’re wondering why its been so long since an actual post, allow me to let ya in on little secret: it’s because nothing has happened that is worth posting about. But random bored posts are fun too, and that is what this is about to become. Anyway, I digress.
The semester is ending, and I’m thankful for that. Oh, one exciting thing has happened: for the first time in my degree, I quit something when it became apparent that I wasn’t going to pass it. I dropped Symbolic Logic! It was wonderful. No more derivations, truth trees, or any of that bullshit. But it was taking away from the rest of my classes, which I’ve been trying to catch up on. I just completed a nasty essay for one of my C Lit classes, and have to begin another one tomorrow. Oh, and I just found out that my SOC final is not on the 24th as I had originally believed; it is in fact next Wednesday. Damn you, Beartracks! Full of lies and deception! Sigh.
I’m enrolled in two spring session classes, and one summer class. Some people get four months of vacation, whereas this has left me with a luxurious two weeks…in which I can steal all available hours at One Stop, so I can actually afford the lovely things in life. Like rent, pantyhose, and birthday gifts. Sigh. I can’t believe that I’m not looking forward to summer. In fact, I won’t even have the luxury of looking out a window during these classes, as I will be confined to the horrors of Tory basement all summer long. Ignore me. I’m just in a bad mood.
But when summer is over and the fall semester begins, it will be the last one in my degree. This is what I have to keep telling myself for the next nine months: it’s a mere nine months. If I could do this for three and a half years, I can sure as hell overcome these blues and kick ass at finishing my degree. Thank god I’m not in medicine.
I also have to retract a statement I posted earlier. I am not going to Aerosmith. They cancelled their tour. I guess Steven Tyler needed throat surgery. I still love them, but to quote Geoff, there is definitely trouble in paradise. We’re currently not talking. My cd’s actually have a layer of dust on them. Its depressing.
Something I can look forward to, though: Geoff and I have been tentatively talking about the next step in our relationship, and moving in together. I can’t wait till it happens, as we don’t get to see each other as often as we would like. It only makes sense to wait till my degree is done...a mere nine months, a mere nine months, a mere nine months… However, we’re tossing around the idea of the three amigos living together, meaning Geoff, Jordo and myself. I just KNOW that I’m going to come home one day to my living room turned into a Cowboys and Indians-type setting, with a gigantic fort set up in the middle. Complete with my best sheets as “walls”, and a “NO GIRLZ” sign adorning the couch-cushion entrance, with two sets of eyes peeking suspiciously out of the top.
In all seriousness though, I am looking forward to it. Maybe I’ll just have Chel and Christine come over, and we can make a SUPERIOR fort. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right? Right.

-K

Quote du Jour
“I promise Jordan and I will behave…ish.”
-Geoff